Gedicht
Heather McHugh
MYRRHA TO THE SOURCE
MYRRHA TO THE SOURCE
MYRRHA TO THE SOURCE
O fluent one, o muscle full of hydrogen,o stuff of grief, whom the Greeks
accuse of spoiling souls,
whose destiny is downward,
whose reflecting’s up—I think
I must have come from you.
Just one more cup.
© 2008, Heather McHugh
From: Poetry, Vol. 191, No. 6, March
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
From: Poetry, Vol. 191, No. 6, March
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
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MYRRHA TO THE SOURCE
O fluent one, o muscle full of hydrogen,o stuff of grief, whom the Greeks
accuse of spoiling souls,
whose destiny is downward,
whose reflecting’s up—I think
I must have come from you.
Just one more cup.
From: Poetry, Vol. 191, No. 6, March
MYRRHA TO THE SOURCE
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